


sky's the limit

by Slumber



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Character Study, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Sports Swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25237171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slumber/pseuds/Slumber
Summary: He's had a front-row seat to Hinata's pitching since he returned from a two-year stint abroad, walking up to the mound for the Black Jackals tryouts like every one of Atsumu's dreams come true, sun-kissed and bright-eyed and hungrier than ever.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 33
Kudos: 201





	sky's the limit

**Author's Note:**

> Everything is the same except they're playing baseball.

The Black Jackals dorms are quiet with the sounds of settling— coaches long finished with their meetings, players just returning from dinner or heading to soak in the baths, if they weren't already back in their rooms ready to sleep— but Atsumu's hardly settled himself.

He'd just finished reviewing the tape in the team's meeting room, turning the TV off and sitting back with a languid stretch of his body. He picks up the remains of his dinner to throw away and makes the short trek back to his room, his mind abuzz with the pitch sequences he wants to try out tomorrow, running through the order of batters they'll be facing, and going down their preferred courses and tendencies and the strategies the Black Jackals will have to use to combat them. 

It is in the middle of deciding how to tackle the cleanup's sharp senses and powerful hits that a faint, rhythmic _thud-thud-thud_ echoes in the silence of the night, stopping Atsumu in his tracks. 

He frowns, and it's not so much curiosity that draws him in as it is an inkling of suspicion, which fully blooms into something like exasperation when he finds Hinata Shouyou facing one of the batting cages, methodically throwing pitch after pitch at the target board he'd set up for himself when he's past a hundred throws for the day and asking anyone to catch for him would get him into trouble.

The little shit.

Atsumu has half a mind to call him out— his pitchers need to be in their best shape tomorrow— but Hinata winds up for a careful pitch, his back to Atsumu, and— 

He doesn't see Hinata pitching from this angle often. 

Even when he was just watching him play at Koushien all those many years ago, the first time he was forcefully made aware of Hinata's existence, he'd been seated close to first base, so he could still see the front of Hinata's form. He had been intriguing then, if not exactly amazing, like unpolished coal just teetering on the brink of revealing the diamond within. And when Inarizaki had gone up against Karasuno in a match, he'd seen firsthand the kind of pitcher Hinata was, and was threatening to become. Atsumu hadn't quite managed to take his gaze away, both times. 

He's had a front-row seat to Hinata's pitching since he returned from a two-year stint abroad, walking up to the mound for the Black Jackals tryouts like every one of Atsumu's dreams come true, sun-kissed and bright-eyed and hungrier than ever. His pitching arm still isn't as powerful as some of the more dangerous pitchers in the league, but he's learned to make up for it with crazy speed and incredible control, expanding his repertoire of pitches alongside vastly improving his batting average. You couldn't call him a liability on offense anymore, not with those numbers.

And now, watching him from the back, Atsumu can only confirm what he already knows: Hinata's form is flawless. He's well-balanced in a way that is deliberate instead of just intuitive, his center of gravity strong and steady as he lifts his knee and leans back for the wind-up, following through with a smooth arc of arm and the satisfying _thwack!_ of ball hitting board. 

Atsumu doesn't have to see it to know the way Hinata's eyes must look right now, fierce and focused. Doesn't have to see it to know the set in his jaw, the line of his lips.

Hinata picks up another ball and goes through the same series of motions: knee up, arm back, aim, throw— this time the ball follows a curve, but lands on the inside top corner of the board. The next ball is dead center, the one after that on the low outside.

He's switching pitches without batting an eye, his aims deadly accurate. He doesn't have Sakusa's wrist, so the spin on his pitches is less wild, but the control in his fingertips, in his entire body, in his movements, is a sight to behold on its own.

"Ya know, Coach Foster ain't gonna be happy to see ya pushing yerself again," Atsumu says, finally making his presence known. Hinata doesn't say anything, following through on one more pitch before he turns to glance at Atsumu. There's no sheepishness in his expression, no trace of embarrassment. Instead, his eyes burn bright with a hunger and a drive that might unsettle anybody else.

_Ah,_ Atsumu thinks mildly, because he isn't just anybody else, either. _He's in that kind of mood tonight._

"Sakusa's starting tomorrow," Hinata says, bending down to pick up another ball from the bucket. "I'll warm up less then if you like, but I want to be ready for my half while I've got the batters fresh in my mind."

It's only been a few months, but Atsumu's learned by now there's only one way to deal with Hinata when he's like this. And while there's a reason the coaches prefer the players rest, Hinata's limit has always been a little bit higher than average. They should be fine for a few more pitches.

"Alright then, Shouyou-kun," he says, walking over to the equipment and picking up his protective gear. He grins at Hinata, fitting his mitt on before he squats down in front of the board. "How about ya make sure I can catch what you're throwing, hm?"

Hinata's smile is sharp and knowing. "Oh, I know you will, Atsumu-san."

It isn't empty words. Atsumu doesn't play with scrubs and Hinata isn't one. They've had the last couple of games to establish the kind of battery they were, and if anything, Hinata may even be the first pitcher to truly push Atsumu further, to really test his limits. 

Atsumu pulls his mask down and holds his mitt up to the center of his chest. "I wanna work on our sequences," he says.

Hinata frowns. "We had a meeting to talk about that today. What else do we—"

"I mean the alternative sequences," Atsumu says, his mouth twitching. "In the last game ya changed yer pitch soon as Tobio-kun moved from bunt to bat."

"He was going to hit it," Hinata points out, unapologetic. "You adjusted in time." _You said you'd catch whatever I pitched you,_ goes unsaid. 

_Barely_ , but Atsumu doesn't say this out loud. He's still floored, in all honesty, that Hinata was even able to change course so last-minute, because Kageyama _had_ waited until almost the moment the ball was out of Hinata's hands before he switched his position, the only other person in the world who probably knew Hinata's tells more thoroughly than Atsumu did— and the only warning Atsumu received was a narrowing of Hinata's eyes a millisecond before he threw the ball at him. 

What Atsumu says is, "Yeah I did, but next time I'd still like ta know how we'd be adjusting. That wasn't entirely a lucky guess—"

"There weren't many other balls I could've thrown from my lead up," Hinata agrees. 

"But I wanna do this more," Atsumu says, grinning when he sees Hinata's eyebrows go up. "Maybe in other situations too."

"You do?"

He's been meaning to have this conversation with Hinata, anyway, because that Adlers game was not even the first time it's happened. Sakusa's a meticulous pitcher who sees things through to the end, a quality Atsumu deeply appreciates for what it brings to the field, but Hinata can catch the smallest flick of opportunity and adjust on the fly, prior signals be damned and a certain kind of _look_ on his face the only sign Atsumu ever gets. 

The challenge is there, all the same: _you'll catch it, won't you?_

"Shouyou-kun, how many pitchers in this league d'ya think can adjust mid-throw the way ya do?" Atsumu asks, letting the silence that follows give Hinata the answer. "So what kind of catcher would I be if I didn't try to use this to our advantage?"

"Okay. What do you want us to do?" Hinata asks, and that's what Atsumu likes about him. He'll just as willingly go along with Atsumu as quickly as he'll drag Atsumu with him.

"Let's work on yer fastball for now, since that's the one we rely on the most," Atsumu proposes, laying out his plan for Hinata to practice switching the pitch into a few different variations so they could figure out which feels the most comfortable for them both to adjust to, not just so it gives Hinata the most effective possible throw, but also puts Atsumu in perfect catching position to throw immediately after. 

Hinata gets to work then, focused on the next couple of pitches as they make tweaks and adjustments, pushing how far Hinata can control his shifts, how late he makes those changes. Atsumu works just as tirelessly, the movements repeated again and again until the memory of it sinks deep into his muscles, baked into his body like he'd never known different.

"I think this is good," Atsumu says, a dozen or so pitches later. (Maybe it's more than that, but he doesn't want to think about how he got carried away too.) "Ya feel okay using this adjustment too?"

"It _feels_ good," Hinata tells him, tossing the ball in the air and feeling the heft of it in his palm when he catches it. "We should've done this earlier, Atsumu-san!"

"Better late than never though, huh?" Atsumu gets to his feet, stretching his legs. "But we really should call it a night before anyone else wonders why the lights are still on."

This time, Hinata is much more amenable to the suggestion. He collects the balls that have scattered around the batting cage, putting the board away and cleaning up with Atsumu in relative quiet. As he puts his glove away, he glances up at Atsumu. "You think we can start doing this tomorrow?" he asks, sounding hopeful and eager.

Atsumu snorts, because by now he knows better. "That makes it sound like I got a choice before ya start pulling those pitches on me, Shou-kun," he teases, intentionally drawing out Hinata's name in singsong. 

Hinata has the self-awareness to flush with a little embarrassment at that, but not the decency to do it unattractively, even as he fumbles over flustered protests. 

He recovers eventually, falling into step beside Atsumu as they close up the practice area and head back to their rooms. "Then," he says finally, the curve of a smirk pulls up at the corner of his lips. "Are you saying you'll need more time, Atsumu-san?"

The little _shit_.

Atsumu barks out a laugh, catching the way the grin now blooms fully on Hinata's lips. (It can send anyone soaring, that smile.) And Hinata knows _exactly_ what he's asking for, the same way Atsumu knows he's playing right into his hands by letting him, but the thing is— the _thing_ is— 

"Course not," Atsumu replies easily, slinging his arm around Hinata's shoulders. "I'm yer catcher, aren't I?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it all the way here! Kudos and comments are always appreciated ♥ and if you liked what you've read, I've written a handful of [other Haikyuu!! fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slumber/works?fandom_id=758208).
> 
> And I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/slumberish) if you wanna say hi!


End file.
